


Self-awareness

by laireshi



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, M/M, Memories, Nightmares, Selfcest, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 17:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20086150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi
Summary: In the heart of his deepest nightmare, V meets himself.





	Self-awareness

**Author's Note:**

> Visions of V, as usually, ruined me.

_ You're a dream_. _ A worthless dream_.

But the _ thing _ V is facing is not just a dream and more than a mere memory. It's _ him, _ and the cold awareness of that, of all the suffering that went into the process of creating him, knocks the air out of V's lungs, makes him choke on nothing and clutch at his chest in a pointless attempt to ease the pain that's not even physical.

He can't fight him.

Not just because he's everything he's ever hated: a weak, pathetic human being that can't protect even himself, but precisely because he remembers all the torture and all the suffering and all the screams torn out of his own throat.

_ How disgraceful, Son of Sparda_.

The words echo in his head, as clearly as the first time Mundus had mocked him. V isn't sure he can still truly claim the title for himself, having lost the part of himself that came from his father, and he is painfully aware of the fact that there's nothing graceful either about himself or Nelo—

_ No_.

_ Mundus _ had called him Nelo Angelo, but it had never been Vergil's name. V refuses to use it, especially as he faces the broken, twisted corruption of his former self.

(Was he truly any more corrupted in the black armour that had enslaved him than he is now, in his frail human body that can't even fight?)

In the end, both of them are what _ Vergil _ had deemed unnecessary and discarded. Vergil would've cut him down, but V is less—no, _ more _ than he was, not inclined to repeat the same sins.

And his former self had been through enough.

V reaches out.

The other demon—knight_—man_ flinches.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you."

His past reflection leans his head to the side, confusion clear in his movements, and V realises: neither of them has ever known a gentle touch; his past self born out of torture, and himself, cut out with the Yamato like a tumour. V might not be able to fight or to keep anyone safe, but he can change that much. He can offer comfort where there's been none.

This time, the other man lets him touch. V traces a line down his cheek—small miracles, that he doesn't have to see the helmet that'd been forced upon him in an effort to make him forget even his own face.

He resembles their true self more than V himself does: the same face, in fact, the same body, only it's covered in scars that should be impossible to place upon them, his sclera black like the night sky (like the shapeless, colourless, endless void he'd been entrapped in when his master had no need of him).

V's shaking when he runs his thumb along his past self's lower lip. It's just the exhaustion of his very human body, nothing more, and it's okay anyway: his past self shivers too at the new, unknown sensation before _ leaning_ into V's hand.

The kiss is soft and uncertain: one more thing new to the both of them. The other man moves, at last, to hold his arm surprisingly gently. V hadn't thought him capable of gentleness, but here he is, rejecting the form Mundus had molded him into. His lips are cold, but real and present for all that V's not completely sure which part is real and which only takes place in his head.

"_For all eternity, I forgive you and you forgive me_," V whispers against his lips, in this moment more aware than ever that neither of them is the real Vergil.

His past self still doesn't speak: Mundus had taken even his voice from him. V smiles sadly as he wipes the other man's tears away with his thumbs; he doesn't need words to understand him.

He steps closer into his space, not to pursue anything more sexual, but just so that he can wrap his arms around him, tight as he can in his weakened body. He remembers the hugs his mother would give him when he was a child, upset for one reason or another that usually had to do with Dante even if he didn't want to admit it at the time. She was warm and loving and safe and he'd never felt as at peace anywhere else as he did in her arms. He tries to remind the other man of this feeling, running his hands down his back soothingly.

"It's fine. It'll be fine." V can appreciate now what he would never have understood before: a lie designed specifically to help. V's mere presence proves that it's not true, but the man in front of him is too broken, shattered down to his very soul, to notice.

He stands without moving, tense in V's arms, but V doesn't let it deter him. He's patient, rubbing circles into his back like it's not still covered by the ugly black armour that he'd spent too many years in, the weight of which on his limbs he remembers even now. His fingers catch on a crack in the armour, the exit wound of when Dante's sword had pierced him through and set him free.

It's a long time until V feels two cold arms circling him, mirroring his movements to embrace V back, still with the utmost care. He could crush him without any problems and V wouldn't be able to stop him, but it doesn't matter: V trusts him; trusts himself because he has to trust _ someone,_ and there's no one else he could.

They stay like that, hugging in the awkward way of men unaccustomed to showing affection in any way; of demons who don't even _ understand _affection to begin with.

"Thank you," the broken man says, finding his voice in the end, and the nightmare dissolves around V.

He falls to his knees; his silver hair covering his eyes changes into black as the nightmare that wasn't bonds itself to him to stay with him forever.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic also has a [twitter post](https://twitter.com/tonytears/status/1157439528866594818?s=19).


End file.
